Look After You
by changenotcoins
Summary: The death of a family member shatters Collins and sets him on a journey down a long and treacherous path to reclaim himself. AngelCollins. Inspired by the song Look After You by The Fray.
1. Dead Wrong

Thomas B. Collins had just finished his last lesson at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. In two weeks time, it would be Christmas, and Collins was looking forward to going back to New York and spending it with his friends.

And it was a place where he could get a _job_, seeing as how he'd lost his one here. He had done nothing wrong, in his opinion. He had simply reprogrammed the retro-reality equipment to self-destruct as it broadcast the words: Actual reality. ACT UP. Fight AIDS. Then shortly thereafter, he was fired. And that's why he'd decided to return home.

There came a knock at the door, and Collins strode over and pulled it open. His boss stood before him, looking grim. Collins noticed another man standing there, clad in a suit as well, with a briefcase in hand.

"Dean Richmond. What's going on?" Collins asked icily.

"I need to speak with you about an urgent matter, Professor." his boss replied.

"Obviously, or you wouldn't be here."

Dean Richmond waved Collins' words away with his hand. "No, no," he said. "This isn't about your job. You're still fired, of course."

"Then what is it about, sir?"

"Well, this man - " he pointed to the man in the suit behind him. " - is a lawyer. He needs to have a word with you."

Collins' eyes flashed with worry. "Wow," he said defensively. "Am I in trouble here?"

Dean Richmond shook his head. "No," he said. "This is your sister's lawyer. He has some news for you."

"What about my sister? Is she all right?" Collins asked, his voice lilted with concern. His sister was the only person he really considered family anymore.

"I think you should sit down, Professor," his boss said, and then walked to the door. "I'll leave you two alone."

Once he was gone, the lawyer sat down in a chair opposite Collins'. "Your sister - " he began. " - was murdered last night."

"Oh my God," Collins said, put his head into his hands and let the first tear fall. "What - what happened?" he choked out.

The lawyer shrugged. "There isn't much information yet seeing as how the cops are still investigating. All I know is that you were the first person to be notified - actually the only person. You're the only family member she still speaks - well, spoke - to."

Collins nodded. "Yes," he said. "But why would her _lawyer_ come and tell me? Why not the cops who are investigating the murder?"

The lawyer opened up his briefcase and pulled out a packet of papers. "The cops are busy in New Jersey dealing with the crime," he said. "I came here to deliver her will to you, and discuss with you what it all entails."

Collins nodded again and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "All right."

"Okay, let's see here..." he muttered, flipping through the pages. "She left everything to you, it looks like. Money, possessions, house - although, I'm not so sure the house would be so great to have."

"Why not?"

"The murder took place there, so you can just imagine what it looks like. Besides, the cops are still processing the crime scene which means you won't be able to do anything there until they are finished," he said. "There isn't a lot of money, and the only possessions are the ones inside the house."

Collins nodded once more, but he was still puzzled. "You could've told me all of this on the phone or something. I don't understand why you had to come here and - "

The lawyer shook his head, and placed his hand on Collins' arm to stop his talking. "There is one very big thing I felt I _had_ to tell you in person."

Collins raised his head slowly and looked at the lawyer. "What is it?"

"You - " he began. " - are your sister's next of kin."

"Right. And that means...?"

The lawyer smiled warmly at Collins. "Congratulations," he said. "Her son is now your responsibility. He's all yours now. You're a _father_."

A/N: I realize it's short, but it's basically just a prologue. In the upcoming chapters, the murder will be investigated and Angel will enter the picture, so there will be romance between Collins and Angel, of course. And Collins will meet his new son. :) Reviews, please.


	2. All At Once

A/N: Well, it's been over two months since I published this, but I had a sudden inspiration. And by the way, the updates following this one might be a little delayed because - believe it or not - I actually _do_ have a life outside of fanfiction. ;)

The news of his sister's death and the fact that he was now going to be a father had taken its toll on Collins. It had been two days since the fateful news had been delivered, and yet he still couldn't fathom what had happened.

He finally decided that it was time to go to New Jersey. Even though he had no experience whatsoever dealing with children, he felt he owed to his sister and the baby to raise him. He figured he'd learn on his own how to become a father - something he'd _never_ thought he'd _ever_ have to do in his life.

And then there was the fact that his only sister - the person he loved more than anything in the world - had been _murdered_. On top of having to raise a kid, he had a murder case on his hands, and there was no way he was trusting the cops to handle this one on their own, especially because it was a member of his own family. No, he'd do everything in his power to catch his sister's killer and make that person pay. There was no way in hell they were going to get away with it.

And so, as he packed his bags and took off for New Jersey, he thought about how drastically his life was about to change.

* * *

Collins stood outside of sister's New Jersey home. He wasn't sure he was really ready to go in, to see the bloody crime scene and the memories of the times he had spent with her. The squad cars and the caution tape surrounding the house were more than a little intimidating. Despite that, he trudged forward, only to be greeted by a boy in blue. 

"Excuse me, sir," the cop reached out and stopped Collins from moving forward any further. "Can I help you?"

"Um, yeah. I'm Tom Collins - Abigail Collins' brother."

The cop nodded, his face instantly going from suspicion to genuine concern. "Yeah, she told me a lot about you."

Collins' eyes widened. "You knew Abby?"

"Sure did. I was her neighbor, and I've never met a woman quite like her. That's why all this is just so hard for me to understand, " he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Look, I assume your not just passing by? There's something you came here to do, right?"

"Right," Collins replied. "There's _a lot _I came here to do."

"And I'm guessing you want to see the crime scene - find out what happened?"

"Yeah. I need to know that this all really true, instead of just some sick joke someone played on me."

"Oh, believe me, it's not. I've seen for myself and it's - well, it's pretty brutal. So when we go in...don't say I didn't warn you. And, I'm really _not_ supposed to be doing this - letting you see and everything - but I loved Abby and you're her family, so I guess it's okay. Just don't go ratting me out to my CO."

Collins nodded and followed the officer through the door. "Okay."

One minute he was outside in the comfortable cold weather of winter in New Jersey and the next minute he was stepping into the atmosphere of death and hurt and pain and so many other shitty emotions that it was hard for him to take even one single breath without a struggle. He instantly felt the tears well up at seeing what was around him.

He could clearly make out the body on the floor - even if it was covered with a white sheet. A large pool of blood surrounded it and this particular sight made him queasy. The cops were bustling about the house, trying to collect even the tiniest bit of information. Collins was eager to find out what they _did _know so far.

"W-what happened?" Collins asked, wiping his tears on his sleeve.

"All I know at this point was that she was brutally raped - but she certainly fought back hard - and then shot to death - twice in the chest. Second shot killed her 'cause it went right through her heart. No prints either. Everything was wiped clean. And no witnesses. We've got _nothing_ - not a single lead."

So this whole thing _was_ true. But there was one little - actually, _monumental_ - detail that still irked him, and he longed to find out the truth about this, too.

"Where is he?" Collins asked the cop.

The cop furrowed his brow in confusion. "Where's who?"

"My sister's son. He had to have been here when she was killed. I just want to know where he is now."

"One of the cops handed him over to a social service lady, who took him to a hospital after that. They're taking care of him until you can come get him."

"Which hospital, Officer...?"

"Taylor," the cop replied. "And the hospital is Mercy General, in this little city called Toms River. But I don't think - "

But Collins didn't hear those last words spoken by Officer Taylor, because he was out of that house in seconds, on his way to collect the little boy he never knew.

A/N: Yes, there's an actual place in New Jersey called Toms River. Of course, I put that in there because it's Collins' name, but you knew that already. :D Oh, and Matt if you're reading this, _yes_ I named Officer Taylor after you. He'll be appearing more often, too. ;)

**Next chapter: Collins meets his nephew.**


	3. Trust Me

**Another couple of months, another update. I don't know if any of you have noticed, but each chapter and the title of the story is the title of one of The Fray's songs, a favorite band of mine. :)**

Collins sank down into a seat on one of the local public buses, counting down the minutes that seemed to tick by so slowly until he'd meet the little boy he'd never known. He didn't know what to feel - scared? Angry? Hopeful? Shocked? Maybe each and evey emotion was a part of him at that very moment, because he felt it all. Not one single word could be used to describe how he felt, but a flood of mixed emotions washed over him.

True, it had been months since he'd spoken to Abby, but she'd never mentioned anything about being pregnant. Or even that she was seeing anyone, although he highly doubted she would have told her big brother about her love life. His mind drifted back to the baby, and he started forming many hypotheses in his head, trying to figure out what had happened. He would have been the first person she would have told about the baby, which was why he couldn't fathom why she _didn't_ tell him.

And then it hit him. Maybe she didn't tell him about the baby because she didn't want him to know, not because she'd simply forgotton or because they hadn't been in touch. Maybe her pregnancy was an accident or something had happened between her and some strange guy that she was afraid to tell him about. This thought only made him angrier, but it all made sense. Abby had always been the responsible one of the family, the one with the most promise, as his parents often reminded him. He'd been the dissapointment of the family, what with being gay and an anarchist. She'd been the one who conformed, the one who'd had a real career. It wasn't like her to just get pregnant and keep it a secret. Or was it?

It made his head spin, and it proved how much he really didn't know about her. How much he'd missed after he skipped out on the family to have his own life, leaving her to deal with their rotten parents alone. His heart sank at the thought, and how much he regretted not being there for her, the one member of his family he could tolerate, the one he loved most. Raising this baby for her was his way of making up for lost time.

* * *

Collins pushed open the maternity ward doors at Mercy General Hospital, and he quickly made his way up to the front desk. 

"Can I help you?" the young, innocent looking nurse asked softly. Collins glanced at her nametag - _Julia Rivera, R.N._

"Yeah," he replied, mustering a small smile. "This may sound odd, but I'm Tom - Tom Collins, and I was told this is where social services brought Abigail Collins' son."

"Abby's... brother, right?"

Collins' eyebrows shot up. "So you knew her?"

"Yeah...I was the main nurse that cared for you sister. She and I became close while she was staying here," she frowned, her tone changing slightly. "I heard what happened on the news. God, I couldn't believe it, but then they brought him here and - well, I just knew." A lone tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away. "Sorry, I just... she was my friend and, well, what happened was so horrible. I assume you're going to be taking care of him, then?"

"Yeah... I don't really have any other choice. I'm all he's got now." Collins could feel the tears welling up, but he fought them back. "Can I - can I see him?"

"Of course. Follow me." She came out from behind the front desk, and led him through the maze of what was the hospital. She stopped in front of the window of the room where all the tiny newborns were kept. He saw each one of them, and his mind reeled. He drew in a sharp breath, not entirely certain that he was prepared for what was about to happen next.

Collins was the type of guy who partied, and smoked, and drank alcohol and did drugs, and to top it all off he was sick and maybe even _dying_. He was in no way the fatherly type. What, was he _insane_? He could barely take care of himself, let alone a _child_. And how could he learn to love someone when he couldn't even love himself?

He could barely breathe, feeling suffocated like he was at that moment. "I can't do this." A bewildered Julia stood there, watching as he turned to go.

"Mr. Collins, where are you going?"

"I can't - I can't_ do _this. I'm not ready, and I never will be." He wanted to run, to just sprint out of there as fast as he could and get out of this nightmare, but Julia gripped his forearm, stopping him in his tracks.

"It doesn't matter whether you're ready or not. Like you said before; you're _all _he's got. You have to own up to this and take responsibility, regardless of whether you think you can or not. He needs you - that little boy needs you."

He knew she was right, and yet... he still had the urge to leave and never come back. But his sister's face became etched in his mind, and he remembered that he had to do this for her. "I know," he breathed, running a hand through his short hair. "I know."

"It's like what they say about parents all the time," Julia said softly, placing a reassuring hand on Collins' shoulder. "You think you're not ready, and maybe you're not, but once you hold that baby, everything changes. You find that love inside you that you never thought you had. And then you wonder how you ever got through life without that one little person."

He nodded, tears spilling over his cheeks. "Whi - which one is he?" There were so many of them - sleeping or crying or just giggling. He couldn't tell which one just might be his nephew.

She scanned the room, and pointed to an incubator in the back of the room. "There he is."

Collins looked up at where she was pointing, and he saw him. _His_ boy. He couldn't read the nametag, but he could see him pretty clearly. His sleeping form, with his fist curled underneath his chin, and a tiny smile gracing his lips. He remembered that his mother had told him long ago that he and his sister had always slept like that, and he smiled.

"You want to go in and hold him?" Julia asked, smiling at Collins and his utter amazement.

"Oh, I - I don't think I could - "

"Sure you can. It just takes practice," Julia giggled at the horrified look on his face. "Come on, I'll be right there with you." She took hold of his hand and dragged him into the nursery, silently instrusting him to put on a gown. He did so as he watched her carefully pick the baby up and out of his crib.

"There you go, little guy," she softly cooed, and looked up at Collins. "'Kay, it's pretty simple. You have to cradle him in your arms, and make sure you keep his head in the crook of one of your arms, up and level, and wrap the other arm around him. Like this, see?" she demonstarted.

"Um, yeah. Okay." he studied her movements intently because he knew he'd have to do this soon, very soon. And the very next second, she was leaning toward him, and placing the baby boy in his arms. "Wow, there we go."

Julia smiled as she ran her thumb gently over the baby's face. "Yeah, just like that. You've got it."

The little boy squirmed slightly in Collins' arms, and gave a little sigh. Collins never imagined he'd feel so... complete, holding him in his arms. It made his stomach do flip flops, but he didn't mind. "Wh - what is his name?"

"His full name is Jesse Thomas Collins. I'm assuming that's after you." Julia grinned.

Collins smiled, only half-listening to what Julia was saying. He was more interested in the bundle of joy in his arms. He really did look like Collins - the little nose, the mouth, and his soft brown eyes, which he'd just opened.

"I'm going to leave you two alone for awhile. For bonding purposes." she stated, and then quietly snuck out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

"So, Jesse, huh? I always told Abby I liked that name," he laughed nervously, sniffling. Julia had been right - things had changed. There was this indescribable feeling that filled him, and he knew it was because of Jesse. "I guess - well, technically I'm your Uncle Tom, or Collins, as I've always prefered, but since I'm the guy who'll be raising you, you can just call me... Dad." _Dad. _That was a word he'd never thought he'd ever use in his lifetime. "Wow. This is... so surreal. And I know that you can't understand a word I'm saying, and it's pointless to be telling you all this now, but I guess it's more for my benefit. You know, my heart on my sleeve and everything."

"Geez, I never thought I'd be in this position, but I don't really have a choice, do I? I'm all you've got now, seeing as how some SOB murdered your mom, and you can bet on your life that I'll find him. But..." he shook his head, and dropped a soft, sweet kiss onto Jesse's forehead. "But I'm doing this for her, and you. Just trust me. And I promise, Jesse, I'll protect you and take care of you, because - because I love you already. With all my heart."

**Of course I named the baby Jesse. It seemed fitting. ;)**

**Next chapter: Collins has his famous encounter with Angel on Christmas Eve, but doesn't seem to keen on telling her about Jesse or his sister's murder.**


	4. Happy Christmas

**I have been watching TOO MUCH SVU. Hence the reason this story is increasingly becoming a friggin' page out of one of **_**their**_** books. ;)**

_Home._

It was a simple word in every sense. One that was taken for granted and one that was thrown around in daily conversation without much thought. But to him it was so much more. It was his place of refuge, a place he knew he could go back to without ever being judged, but loved. But as he sat in the dark, dingy alleyway, he thought that home had not been so kind to him this time. He'd left Jesse safely in the care of Julia - who he'd grown close to in the short time they'd known each other - and had come back to New York for one last Christmas before his fatherly duties prevailed. He knew very well that he had to change his ways and that his days of debauchery were over. He had a _child_ to take care of, another human being, and he couldn't fuck this one up. Jesse _needed_ him.

He closed his eyes to block it out. He'd always prided himself on being independent and resilient and capable of defending himself. But those solid, strong words no longer suited him. Having been stripped of all his defenses, all his strength, all the deeply ingrained ways he defined himself, he had no pride, no dignity. He clung to the filthy wall behind him, watching as his blood dripped down his battered hand. Shivering from the cold, he slowly pulled his knees up to his chest, careful not to cause himself any further pain. The hard cement floor offered nothing in the way of comfort, pushing unmercifully against his tailbone as he tried to shift in such a way that might keep him warm and prevent bruises on his ass. It took a long moment for him to realize the stupidity of the thought. He had been beaten up by several strange men in Alphabet City; bruises were hardly going to be his biggest worry.

The quiet was getting to him. He hated listening to the silence. All he could hear was the sound of his own breathing. It didn't take too long before he realized that the more he consciously tried to take even breaths, the more difficult it became. He let his head drop back against the wall in aggravation, wincing when he hit the concrete. He was no stranger to crying, having let himself go in the heat of the moment numerous times before. But now he felt as if he had to be man and fight a battle against the tears that were threatening to fall across his cheeks. Unpertrubered by impossibility, he continued to strain with all of his might.

He had lost track of time, but he knew it had been well over a few hours. He was lost in his own thoughts, the only thing keeping him from going out of his mind. He thought about what it would be like if he died that night, leaving Jesse behind with no one but a memory of what could have been, and all that Mark and Roger would think. He thought about what it would be like for a cop that hadn't gotten sleep for hours, who was just out on his nightly routine patrolling the streets, to find him. He thought about what it would be like for that cop to bring his decomposed body to the morgue, and what it would be like when Mark and Roger had the unseemly task of identifying him on the cold slab of table with just a thin white sheet covering his body. It made him hope that they'd never find him.

He would never claim to be the glue that held them all together, but he could certainly prove to be the wedge that drove them apart. It wasn't an honor he wanted.

He heard a voice in the distance, but chose to ignore it; he knew he was just delusional. His head hurt beyond the pains of what was a normal headache and he moaned. He knew that was due to how hard he'd hit the wall when they'd grabbed him. His thoughts were also kind of fuzzy, and the approaching footfalls he_ thought _he heard wasn't helping matters. But as he saw the slim silhouette coming closer with every passing second, he thought maybe he wasn't going insane. Maybe he was wrong. But differentiating right and wrong thoughts at this point was proving to be a more difficult task than he could manage.

And yet, he must've been dead wrong because a mere second later he heard the words, "Oh, my God. Are you okay, honey?"

He wanted to lash out and scream, _'No, of course I'm not okay! Don't you see me lying here left for dead?' _but he didn't. That melodic, concerned, caring voice stopped him, and he just waited for it to say something more.

But he needed to speak, to at least let the other person know he was still alive. "I'm afraid so." he moaned once more, wiping the blood streaming down his nose onto his hand.

The young man knelt down before him, his eyes roving over Collins' injured form. "Did they get anything, or...?"

"I didn't have any money but they took my stuff." he replied in a strained voice. His eyes shifted upwards, coming to rest on the boy before him. He was finally able to get a decent look at him despite his blurry vision and he was pleasantly surprised at what he saw. He really was young, several years between them at least. His mocha colored eyes bore into Collins' with such intensity that Collins almost felt the need to look away, his head cocked to the side in concentration. He had supple, bronze skin and he could even tell it's color in the dark as he seemed to be glowing. The innocent yet concerned look upon his brilliant cheekbones accented his perfect nose, and his eyes, enticing yet soft, striking yet resilient, mysterious yet telling an entire story, were drilling themselves into Collins' soul more by each passing moment. The lips which sent soft and caring words to Collins' ears sounded like music, and they looked like rose petals and he would bet a million dollars that they felt like roses, too. He reached down without ever taking his eyes off of Collins' and pulled out the cloth that was looped around his waist, offering it to Collins.

Collins shook his head, and gently pushed the cloth back towards the boy. "No. I'm fine, I'm fine." The last thing he wanted to do was spread his virus to whoever this person was.

He smiled as he took the cloth back, and softly said, "I'm Angel."

Collins gave a light laugh, instantly regretting doing so, for it caused him more pain. But it was immensely funny to him that the one person who helped had such a fitting name. He felt as if Angel had a halo hanging above his head and that he was purely heavensent. "Angel?" he said, testing out the word on his lips. "Friends call me Collins. Tom - Tom Collins."

Angel continued to watch him vigilantly, and stood up, gripping Collins by the underarm. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up," he commanded, using every ounce of strength he had to pull the larger man to his feet without hurting him more. "I sort of have to hurry. I have a Life Support meeting to go to."

"Life Support?"

"Yeah," Angel said quietly, avoiding Collins' eyes. "It's for people with AIDS... people like me."

Collins wasn't too surprised, in a place like this. He pinched his nose tightly between two fingers and tilted his head back. "Me too." he said nonchalantly. Now that their secrets were out in the open, he felt relieved and at ease. It was nice, the way that the comfortable silence enveloped them. It wasn't like the previous silence he had felt before on the ground; he loved this. Angel made him feel like he was floating precariously on the edge of a cloud, but if he were to stumble Angel'd be there to catch him. It was a fastidious change from what he'd been experiencing as of late.

"That seems to be the consensus around here, huh?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "Look, I-I appreciate this. I was sitting there thinking of a way to get out of that predicament and then... well, you came along. And I'm not the type who asks for assistance." he added hastily. He didn't want Angel to think he was fragile, vulnerable, weak. But deep down he knew Angel wouldn't; it wasn't in his blood to think anything but good of everyone else.

Angel laughed lightly, his foggy breath evident in the cold of the streets. "It didn't look as if you had a choice. They got you pretty bad."

"How'd you know they beat me up?" he asked quietly.

"Well, I didn't very well think it was self inflicted. And you said they took your stuff."

"Oh..." he choked out, trying desperately to receive some air. "I really feel like you should be running from me screaming as if you were on fire."

"Why?" he asked and when Collins shrugged in reply, he said with a cheeky smile, "You're refreshing. And you're not getting off that easily."

It was close to midnight when they reached Angel's apartment. Collins wasn't too keen on climbing several flights of stairs, but he warmed up to the idea when he realized Angel was to help him, sliding his arms around Collins in close proximity. He couldn't very well pass up the opportunity to have Angel so close to him, so near with his body heat radiating off of him and his gentle gestures there to comfort Collins.

Collins took a peek at the setting around him, but nothing registered the way it should've. He wanted things to make sense. Tonight, though, nothing made sense. He was still out of it, and for now he was content with just being eased down onto the couch by Angel. He leant his head back ever so slowly, his eyelids drooping, heavy from a serious need of sleep.

He barely saw Angel slipping off his pants and shirt. Normally, an act like this - especially one done by such a person - would have aroused him. But sex and everything that it entailed was the last thing on his mind. He blushed anyway, a blush he hoped Angel has disregarded. But the playful smirk that was present on his features told Collins it hadn't been. He could vaguely feel Angel lifting him up off the couch and leading him towards the bathroom. He thought he could see makeup lining the counters, but maybe his mind was playing tricks on him again. He brushed his teeth with a spare toothbrush Angel quickly provided, and he was somehow aware of Angel handing him a pair of sweat pants. The routine of getting ready for the night managed to calm his nerves, sooth his fears - as if he hadn't just broken down in an alleyway a little less than an hour ago. Hadn't been nearly beaten to death in the streets in a little less than a day. It took a bit of maneuvering for him to drag his sweat pants up over his injured leg. He hopped a little on his good leg like a total idiot, and slid the pant leg up and over his bandages Angel had expertly done up for him. Collins tried not to wince when it rubbed against the wound, but the pain was a stinging reminder that everything that happened that day hadn't been a nightmare. Hadn't been some remnant of a terrifying dream born out of one too many cheap, late night movies. But he sharply remembered the piercing pain of the wound festering in his leg; the blinding flare when those men had sliced open his flesh with God knows what on their person. He'd taken enough pain killers to sooth a wild animal, but pleasant numbness was impossible. The pills didn't touch his phantom pains.

He struggled with the rest of the pant leg, attempting to coax himself through it despite the languishing pain. Angel's hands came forward, eager to help him, and Collins nearly crashed to the floor as the movement startled him into whirling around. His toothbrush and a soap dish went careening to the floor and he ended up bracing himself against the bathroom sink, with one pant leg on and the other dangling pathetically at his side. After everything he'd been through in the last couple of weeks, Collins briefly thought he'd seriously die right then and there of sheer mortification and embarrassment.

"Relax, sweetie," Angel said, stifling a giggle. "It's not like I haven't seen it all before."

"Excuse me?" Collins squeaked out. He never thought he felt so perpetually nervous in another person's presence before, but Angel had a funny way of making him feel things he'd never felt before.

"Well, not_ your _particular bits and pieces, but I have seen a penis before. More than one, in fact."

In the future, he was going to try really hard to erase the memory of this moment from all consciousness. Selective amnesia was a side effect of post-traumatic stress, right? "I'm fine."

He quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. "You are a lot of things right now, but fine is not one of them," Angel answered back, staring point blank at Collins with an expression he knew it was useless to argue with. "Let me help you, Collins. That's why you're here."

If it had been any other person, Collins would have stubbornly rebelled in irritation and annoyance. But this was Angel.

He found his shoulders slumping in relent almost immediately. Angel flashed him a smile as he stepped forward, and when he braced a hand on Collins' left shoulder, Angel helped him shrug on the last pant leg. He swallowed against the fluttering in his stomach at Angel's close proximity, trying to ignore his intoxicating smell when he lifted his head back up and their eyes connected. There was a part of him that didn't want to let go of Angel, but he did, and Angel removed his other hand from Collins' side. Before he could manage to regroup with anything more coherent than a bumbling apology, the bathroom suddenly seemed to close in on him, shrinking the small space until the claustrophobic effect had him spinning about like a dradle.

"I think what you need is some rest." Angel said gently. He urged himself to take a breath, but he couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe then and he couldn't breathe now. Oxygen had been running out then, and it was barely accessible now. Angel guided him cautiously towards his bed in his room across the hall, and Collins was grateful.

"You don't have to give up your bed for me." he declared.

"Would you rather sleep on the shitty couch?" Angel asked, and he laughed lightly at the indignant look on Collins' face when he spied the couch. "Yeah, didn't think so. Besides, we're both adults here and there's enough room for the both of us."

Again, this was the type of situation he'd be overjoyed about normally - sharing a bed with someone as glorious as Angel. But his lack of sleep overcame him, and he was desperate for a decent night's rest, and so he pushed the dirty thoughts out of his mind. He rested his head on one of the many mismatched pillows, pulling a blanket tighter around him. He could feel Angel shift into a comfortable position no more than a foot away, and it made him uneasy that a warm body was so close to his. As he sucked in a breath, he thought about how long it had been since he'd been in bed with another man. He had sworn off men for the time being ever since he'd found out he had AIDS and even more so when he found out he had to take on the responsibility of raising a child. Falling in love again would be a huge inconvenience. But he had feeling it was gradually creeping up on him again.

"What if - what if I have nightmares?" he breathed. He thought this question might be too babyish, and he didn't want Angel to feel obligated to take of him, especially in this situation. The room spiraled and ebbed, but he forced his eyes to track Angel's body, to hone in on him and everything he was. Lifeline. Touchstone. Savior. His _angel_, as cliche as it sounded. He swallowed, giving into the tears that were threatening to fall. "I...I'm afraid to close my eyes. I'm afraid that when I wake up, I'll be right back there."

Angel placed one hand on his cheek, stroking it softly and smiled. "Don't be. Because when you open your eyes, I'll be right here."

**I realize this might be a**_** bit **_**overdramatic in the sense that his beating wasn't that bad, but there's a little more to it, and you'll understand what I mean by that as the chapters go on. I didn't want them to fall madly in love with a TON of fluff the second they met. It's going to go slow. **

**Next chapter: Angel becomes a larger part of Collins' life when he opens up more about his past and present and asks Angel a very important question. **


	5. Over My Head

If he got any rest at all, he wasn't aware of it. There was a period of unconsciousness, which he would begrudgingly admit, only because at one point that he couldn't recall, the sky outside Angel's window had gone from dark to bright. For a moment, he lay there, one of the mismatched throw pillows over his face, realizing the window was facing east. It was a minute deatil, but it reminded him of his windows back in New Jersey. Of course, east facing windows also meant that on those few and far between days where Collins was actually trying to sleep, the sun would have him up at, quite literally, the crack of dawn. And it only took another second for him to remember that he had no business sleeping, not when it was Christmas and not when there was Angel. He jerked fully awake, throwing aside the blanket he'd pulled over himself during the night. The rushing out of bed hadn't done him any good, either - it had only served to make his pains worsen.

He indistinctly remembered Angel sleeping beside him the entire night, head cradled against his shoulder and body lining his, and he didn't even get the chance to relish the moments because he was asleep and dreaming. Nightmares that echoed his day.

But as promised, every time he'd woken up with the phantom taste of blood in his mouth and sweat soaked skin, he was there. Angel was there. He had no idea how Angel did it, but his presence alone made Collins brave enough to close his eyes again. He recalled whispering to Angel in awe - in the spur of the moment - that he was his knight in shining armor, to which Angel had replied with a smile and told him to never, ever forget it. And he knew he never would.

When it had finally sunk in that Angel wasn't next to him anymore, he panicked. He was scared; scared that one of the only people he had left had left him. But it was stupid to be thinking such thoughts, for it was Angel's apartment. If he really was gone, it would be only temporarily.

He limped his way into the kitchen, only to find Angel wasn't there. He hated himself for being clingy, as if he needed Angel. But he did. And it scared him how immense his need was.

He soldiered on and was surprised to see Angel curled up on the ratty couch. He looked adorable in his state of sleep, like Collins always knew he would. He couldn't resist taking a moment to stare.

God, he wanted Angel. He had since the moment he'd laid eyes on him. But he couldn't. He just _couldn't_. There was so much at stake, so much he could lose now. He would rather settle for Angel's friendship than have nothing at all. It was good enough. And it wasn't like he deserved much more than that.

Before he could even open his mouth to speak, Angel's eyes slowly fluttered open, landing on him. He grinned upon seeing Collins, sat up slowly and yawned. "Sleep well?" He had a mysterious glint in his eyes, mischief clear on his face.

Collins playfully glared at him and smiled slightly. "Given the circumstances, yeah," he replied. "Thank you. For everything."

Angel shrugged. "I'm a good samaritan. And besides, sometimes you have to believe things aren't just coincidence."

"You mean like it was fate we met?"

"You never know," Angel smiled, but said nothing more on the subject. "Hungry?"

Collins laughed. "Only if you've got Cap'n Crunch."

Angel grinned, striding over to the kitchen. "That's like you're comfort food, isn't it?"

"Damn straight."

Angel just laughed, handing him a bowl of the colorful cereal. "Yeah, well, you and me both. I practically live off of this stuff," he said, watching as Collins spooned an enormous bite into his open mouth. "So, Collins, how long are you in New York for?"

Collins stopped, the spoon poised before his mouth. He didn't know what to say; it wasn't something he'd thought about but now it began to dawn on him that he needed an answer to this question, not only for Angel but for himself. It hadn't really crossed his mind that eventually he _had_ to go back. "I, um... I'm not sure. Couple of days, maybe," he said. This was the truth, and he was just as lost as Angel was. "New Jersey won't be missing me, anyways."

"But I think New York would." Angel said, his eyes sincere, conveying an entirely different message that his previous his words had not.

Collins just smiled, returning to his cereal. He had a vague idea of what was stirring inside Angel's head, and he braced himself for the impact of what he knew would be Angel's next words. "Is there a reason you've been living in New Jersey? I mean, clearly you're not one of those native New Yorkers."

Collins desperately searched for the words, but they weren't there. He wasn't ready to open up about everything he'd done, about his sister, or about Jesse. He didn't need another person to be disappointed in him. He didn't need to lose another person. So he chose the silence, letting it envelop him and his many enigmas.

Angel took a deep breath and lifted Collins' chin with his crooked finger, forcing their eyes to meet. "You don't have to say anything."

"I know," he breathed. And he did. He didn't have to say anything. But like all instances of taking the fifth, not saying anything implied there was something he wasn't telling. And he knew Angel was smart enough to read between the lines; he had secrets buried deep within him. "Truth is, Angel... if I told you why, you'd find every reason to turn away. And I can't have another person leave. Not when it seemed like I was finally piecing things back together."

"It's amazing how far we'll go just to maintain some measure of control. The world spins a circle within a circle and we grip so tight it makes our knuckles white. When all we really want to do is let go, lose control, fall, see where we land," Angel replied. "Maybe you should try it. Because despite all evidence to the contrary, not everyone will just leave. _I_ won't leave. I'll be here."

Collins laughed lightly. "Just don't say I didn't warn you. Because despite appearances, I am nowhere near perfect."

"I wouldn't expect you to be. No one is. Believe me, everyone comes with some sort of baggage. Some larger than others," Angel shrugged. "So what've you got?"

"I guess I should tell you the story from the beginning. It'll make more sense," he began, standing up and putting his empty cereal bowl in the sink. "You were right about me not being a native New Yorker. My whole story begins in New Jersey, where I was born. I grew up there, just me and my sister. We were thicker than thieves, closer than close since we were only a few years apart. But we always had problems with our parents. It was like nothing we ever did was good enough for them, me especially. They had higher hopes for Abby, even though I was the genius of the family. They realized I was a lost cause and that I'd never conform the way they wanted. So I knew that the _second_ I turned eighteen, I was gone. I was so sick of everything they put me through. But I...I was selfish. I left for me, never even thinking about Abby. Sure, she only had another couple years to go before she could escape the hellhole that was our house, but I never should've left her. They treated her like _garbage_, and she needed me to be there for her, but I bailed like the asshole I was. I was only thinking of myself, and that was the biggest mistake I could ever make. I went away to college at NYU, sometimes speaking to Abby, sometimes not. This went on for years, up until now. And then... a few weeks ago, I found out she was raped and murdered."

Angel gasped, not knowing what to say in response to Collins' heartbreaking story. He watched Collins closely as he saw a lone tear slide down his cheek, and he hastily wiped it away, for fear of Angel thinking he was any less of a man in front of him. Angel wanted to tell him it was okay to cry, it was okay to let it all out, but he didn't, deciding it was better if Collins handled the situation the way he wanted.

"I got the news in New York, after I was fired from my latest teaching job. I just...I had no idea. I never thought it would ever be Abby. You hear all those stories on the news, read about them in the papers, watch them on the latest crime drama, but you never think it'll happen to you. And now that she's gone, I realized how much I lost. How much I missed when I just up and left and left her behind. And what the worst part about all of it is... that's time I can never get back. I can never get her back, ever. The only piece of her I have left is her son."

Angel's eyes widened. "You have a nephew?"

"I didn't know about him until I found out she had died. After the lawyer let me know about Abby, he told me I was next of kin, and since our family wants nothing to do with me or Abby anymore, he's mine. Abby didn't even tell me she was pregnant, that she was seeing someone. It was unlike her not to tell me about something about that. Which leads me to believe there's more to the story. She was never one to keep a secret, especially not from me. That's how I know something's wrong, and I just can't..." he trailed off, letting his tears drown out his words, letting the sobs overcome his weakened body.

He felt Angel pull him closer, wrapping his arms around him in a tight embrace. He gripped Angel's shirt between his two fists, finally letting his emotions take over him. At one point, he would have evaded this situation; crying into someone's shirt, soaking it, wearing his heart on his sleeve and letting them see every part of him. But now, he didn't care. He knew Angel would not judge him, and so he let the tears fall without regard. He cried for Abby, for Jesse, for his parents, for himself. He was long overdue for a cry, and he decided to make the most of it.

"I promised him... I promised Jesse I'd do everything in my power to catch his mother's killer. Abby's killer. And when I do, I swear to God, I'll kill him myself. He'll understand what it's like to lose a life, to feel the pain. I've given up on watching out for consequences, because it doesn't matter anymore. He's a dead man walking." he choked out, his voice dripping with anger.

Angel just simply nodded, not sure what to say. He understood Collins' need for justice - not only for Abby and Jesse, but for himself. Angel knew that Collins thought he had to make up for lost time. If he caught Abby's killer, and gave him what he deserved, then it was his way he would make up for every wrong he'd ever done to his sister. He felt he had to make amends, and Angel wasn't about to stand in his way. "I understand. And if you need someone to be there for you, I'm right here."

Collins slowly lifted his head at Angel's words, his eyes locking onto Angel's. "I... are you sure?"

"Why not? I'm up for catching a killer as much as the next guy."

"Can I ask you something? An important something?"

"Anything."

"Will you come home with me to New Jersey?"

**Next chapter: Angel and Collins arrive in New Jersey, where more of his past unravels. Angel finally meets Jesse, with whom he has a connection with. And more details of Abby's rape and murder are revealed.**


End file.
